Special thanks to Aubrey'Snape and Sivan Shemesh for their precious help with the sex part :)

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It was almost dawn when Aragorn left his bedroom fully dressed. His heart clenched, seeing the prone form of Lady Gwîneth on one of the living room's couches. The Elleth must've spent her night there, thinking he and Legolas were in it. She probably didn't wish to disturb them in their hour of mourning and preferred to sleep here instead. The man sighed deeply, closing his eyes briefly, blinking away the tears that started to form. Shaking his head, he pushed his grief down, knowing he had to be strong for Legolas' sake, if nothing else. Taking a deep breath, he forced his legs to move to the sleeping Elleth and touched her shoulder gently.

"Lady Gwîneth..." he called softly.

Gwîneth rose almost immediately, staring questioningly at the man above her. Her mouth opened to ask the King why he was in her room when the events of last night returned to her. Instead, tears flooded her eyes, and soft sobs escaped her mouth.

Aragorn took a deep breath as the Mirkwood Lady wept in front of him; he kept his hand resting on the Lady's shoulder, trying to provide some comfort.

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty," Gwîneth whispered, wiping her tears away. "What happened was indeed a shock..." She tried her hardest to overcome her grief, but her tears refused to stop falling.

"It's alright, my Lady," Aragorn said softly, fighting his grief. "It's a shock to us all."

The Elven Lady looked up at him sadly before she stood up slowly, allowing Aragorn's hand to slide off her shoulder gently.

"How is Legolas faring?" she asked.

"He's sleeping in our bedroom," The King replied flatly. "I managed to force him to sleep two hours ago. Please, take care of him while I'm gone, my Lady." —Gwîneth nodded her understanding— "I must go now. There are so many things that have to be done." With that, he began to stride towards the door.

"My Lord?"

Aragorn halted just as his hand was about to turn the doorknob and looked over his shoulder at the Lady.

"Is Mír—Míreth in her cradle?" Gwîneth fought hard not to cry as she mentioned the name of the Elfling she had come to adore so much.

"She's with Legolas in our bedroom," Aragorn replied before he opened the door and left the room.

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The guards and servants who roamed the castle's corridors early in the morning stared inquisitively as their King strode through, wondering why their King was out of bed at such an early hour. Many were tempted to approach and ask him, but the sombre expression on his face was enough to kill their curiosity immediately. The two soldiers guarding the King's main office stood at attention as they saw their monarch approaching, yet their eyes held the same question that ran through everyone who crossed his path this morning.

"You," Aragorn said to one of the guards as he approached them. "Go to Lord Faramir's quarters and inform him that I require his presence at my office."

"Now, my Lord?" the young guard asked. "Lord Faramir may be asleep—"

"Then wake him up!" Aragorn snapped. "I want to see my Steward at once!"

Without waiting for a reply, he entered the office and slammed the door behind him.

The two guards winced at the loud sound of the heavy wood doors slamming against their frames and exchanged worried glances. Their King had never spoken to any of them in that tone before. He was the most patient, kind and humble person they had ever met. Something colossal must have happened to make him lose his temper like this. The guard whom Aragorn spoke to hurried to carry out his orders.

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Faramir ran through the corridors from his quarters to the King's office. The guard who carried Aragorn's message to him had distressed the young Steward upon describing the King's state. Dark apprehension and fear took hold of Faramir's heart as he rushed through the palace. When he entered the office, the sight that met his eyes raised his anxiety tenfold.

Aragorn sat in a dark corner in the dimly lit room, shoulders slumped, head bowed, and resting upon tightly clutched first. The man was breathing heavily as if he was in great pain, and his body was shaking as if he was about to fall apart. He looked like a broken man. Faramir's heart ached for his friend.

The Steward stepped forward and said softly, "My lord?"

At first, Aragorn didn't stir.

"Your Majesty?" Faramir called again when the King failed to acknowledge his presence. The blond man almost cried out in anguish as Aragorn lifted his head and looked up at him with a devastated expression etched on his handsome features.

"Sit down, Faramir," The King spoke in a low, emotionless voice.

"What happened, my Lord?" Faramir asked as he took his seat in front of Aragorn.

"Míreth died last night," the King replied in the same toneless voice after a moment of silence.

Faramir gasped as he stared disbelievingly at his King.

"What? How? Why?" he finally managed to breathe.

In response, Aragorn stood up and headed to the fireplace. With his back to his friend, he spoke again; the lack of inflexion in his voice only caused the other man's heart to clench in sympathy.

"An official obituary should be made," he said. "All flags and banners must be lowered to mourn her death throughout the Kingdom, and I'm charging you with all the funeral arrangements."

Faramir listened to his King's instructions, feeling his soul crying for the other man. He knew that Aragorn was trying to appear strong and calm when, in fact, his heart was bleeding from the loss of his child.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the Steward said. He wanted to know how the young Princess died, but he knew it wasn't the right time. The blond man stood up and walked to his King, placing a comforting hand on the tensed shoulders.

"Please accept my deepest condolences," he said. A simple nod was his only reply. "Is that all, my Liege?"

"A message of condolence should be sent to Mirkwood. King Thranduil is Mír—the Princess' grandfather - and should be informed." Aragorn closed his eyes briefly as if his heart were being stabbed upon mentioning his daughter's name.

"Yes, my Lord."

"That would be all, Faramir."

The blond man nodded, giving his King and friend a soft squeeze on the shoulder before walking away, but a thought occurred to him as he reached for the door's knob.

"My Lord," he spoke, looking back at his King. "If the Lords of the council wished to pay their condolences—"

"I do not wish to see anyone until I say otherwise." Aragorn cut off sharply.

"But—"

"Just tell them that Legolas and I wish to mourn the loss of our daughter in peace," Aragorn said heatedly. "Neither Legolas nor I will see anyone who isn't family or close friends until we decide we're ready."

"Yes, my Lord." Faramir nodded empathetically before leaving the room. As soon as the door was shut, Aragorn let his tears slide silently down his cheeks.

'Goheno nîn, Míreth ( Forgive me, Míreth),' he whispered. 'I've failed you.'

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Gwîneth sighed deeply as she stood on the balcony, staring blankly at the horizon. Only an hour had passed since sunrise, but it seemed like ages to the blonde Elleth. Gwîneth bit her lower lip, wondering how the news of the Princess' death would affect the rest of their family and friends.

"Lady Gwîneth!" Pippin's cheerful voice snapped her from her thoughts.

Gwîneth took a deep breath, readying herself to face Mallorn and the halflings.

"Good morning," she greeted softly, forcing a small smile as she entered the living room.

Mallorn frowned deeply, noticing how tired and wane the Mirkwood Elleth looked. Her usually bright, lively eyes were dull and red, and her inner light was dim.

"Lady Gwîneth, is Míreth ready for our walk?" Pippin asked enthusiastically.

"Is she up yet?" Merry asked with equal excitement. "We made a present for her: a nice wooden doll."

"Let's go and check on her, Merry." Pippin patted his cousin's shoulder before rushing towards Míreth's bedchamber, followed by Merry.

Gwîneth bit her lower lip, fighting the grief that rose in her heart at the hobbits' excitement.

'Gwîneth.'

She almost jumped from fright upon hearing Mallorn's solemn voice. She turned to look at the blond Prince, but Gwîneth couldn't hold herself together any longer. She threw herself into Mallorn's arms and buried her head in his shoulder, crying her heart out, unable to hold herself any longer. The pain in her heart was too much to hide any longer.

'Gwîneth, what's wrong?' he asked dreadfully. 'Tell me, what happened?'

'Míreth passed away,' the Lady sobbed. 'She passed away last night.'

Mallorn's body stiffened as Gwîneth's words slowly sunk in, and he felt as if his mind suddenly froze and refused to accept what the Lady said.

"Gwîneth, where is Míreth?" The innocent tone that coloured Pippin's question made Mallorn's body shake violently as different emotions overflew his soul. Gwîneth looked down at the hobbits and couldn't suppress the new wave of tears that flooded from her eyes.

"Why are you crying, Lady Gwîneth?" Merry asked.

The Lady shook her head in response, unable to say a word. Meanwhile, Mallorn, who pulled away from her, seemed to be in another place.

"And you as well, Prince Mallorn. Why are you crying?" Pippin asked.

Mallorn touched his cheek, only to discover that he was indeed crying.

"Míreth has died, Pippin," he stated softly.

The two hobbits stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the two elves.

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Elrohir frowned when Mallorn entered their chambers almost an hour after he had left. His frown deepened as he noticed the frozen expression on the Mirkwood Prince's face. He watched apprehensively as the blond Elf walked to their bed and threw himself onto it. The Peredhel jumped from his seat by the window when he heard soft sobs from his lover.

'Mallorn, what happened?' he asked anxiously as he sat by the weeping Elf. 'Mallorn!' Gently, he lifted the blond's body to see his face. 'Mallorn, what is it?'

'There is no use,' the blond Elf whispered as tears drenched his face. 'It's as if we were cursed. No matter how much we try, it all ends in death.'

'Death?' Elrohir asked in alarm. 'What do you mean? Mallorn, what happened? Who has died?' His mind twisted in panic as he recalled Aragorn's talk about the attempt on Legolas' life.

'Elrohir,' Mallorn said as he dislodged himself from the Peredhel. 'We can't remain together anymore.'

'What?!'

Mallorn looked directly into his lover's eyes before whispering.

'We must end this affair.'

'Affair?' Elrohir asked angrily. 'Is that how you regard our love? A mere affair? Do you want to end it so you can run to your previous lover, Gwîneth?'

'IT'S NOT ABOUT GWÎNETH!' Mallorn cried in anguish. 'If we remain together, then something will surely happen to you! Why can't you see? I'll certainly lose you if we stay together.'

With that, the blond leaned against a stunned Elrohir and sobbed.

The dark-haired Elf remained silent momentarily as Mallorn's words slowly sunk into his mind.

'What are you talking about?' he finally asked softly, wrapping his arms around his lover. 'Tell me, Mallorn, please.'

'We're destined to lose our loved ones. Adar had lost Nana, Aredhel had lost his first child, and Legolas lost Haldir and now his daughter. Our happiness is always short-lived. We can never be happy, ever. We're cursed, Elrohir, cursed!'

Elrohir felt his heart compressed tightly at Mallorn's words, partly because of the news of Míreth's death but primarily because of Mallorn's sudden confession. He finally understood what had always stood between him and Mallorn. He understood what was holding his lover from following his heart. His arms unconsciously tightened around the blond Elf as he buried his face in his golden mane.

'I'll never leave you, Mallorn,' he whispered. 'I love you so much. I'll never leave you.'

'I'll end up losing you in the end,' Mallorn whispered back.

'No, you will not,' Elrohir said sharply as he pulled his lover away, locking their eyes together. 'Mallorn, look at me!' He waited until Mallorn's eyes met his. 'Mallorn, neither you nor any of your family are cursed. Your family has gone through a series of unfortunate events, but they were purely by chance.'

'Weren't you listening to me?' Mallorn exclaimed angrily. 'Legolas has just lost his daughter, after all he went through to keep her! What makes you think that I won't lose you as well?'

Rage rose inside of Elrohir upon seeing his proud lover so broken.

'Everything that happened and will happen is the Valar's will,' he hissed angrily, locking his eyes with Mallorn. 'We can't halt our lives simply because we ran into some sorrow and sadness. Adar always said that everything happens for a reason. We may not know it, but always trust that life will move on. I love you, Mallorn, and I'll never abandon you because of silly notions. I'll love you until the end of time, and I'll fight the whole world to stay by your side. You have to believe this, Mallorn.'

Mallorn stared at his lover, still unable to shake his fears away. He was surprised to realize how much he had come to love the dark-haired half-elf and how much fear resided in his heart because of it. But hearing Elrohir's claims of undying love made him realize that he wasn't about to forsake his love for anything in the world. Unable to hold himself back, Mallorn crushed his lips to Elrohir's, pulling the Peredhel into a tight embrace.

Using his body, Elrohir pushed Mallorn down, mouths still fused. His hands slowly opened the blond Elf's tunic and shirt laces. As the two broke for air, the Peredhel looked deeply into the woodland Elf's eyes.

'I want to make love to you,' he whispered gently.

Mallorn stared uncertainly at his lover, still unable to ignore the fear that filled his heart. Seeing fear shining from his lover's eyes, Elrohir leaned down again and captured Mallorn's lips fervently as his hands slowly travelled downward to loosen the laces of the blond's leggings before they moved up again and started to play with his nipples.

Mallorn moaned into Elrohir's mouth as the Peredhel's hands skillfully teased his nipples, and he felt himself harden beneath his lover's touch.

Elrohir moved his mouth and started to trail teasing kisses on Mallorn's jaw and neckline as his hands began to unfasten his clothes. Breaking up from the kisses, Elrohir stared down lovingly at the flushed Mallorn, both breathing heavily.

When his lover shed his clothes, the blond Elf pulled him into another zealous kiss while his arms caressed Elrohir's naked back. His breath hitched as he was caught off guard when one of the dark-haired Elf's hands slid into his leggings and grabbed his erection. A moan tore from his mouth as the offending hand caressed his length twice before moving again. Mallorn gasped, breaking the kiss as he felt a finger enter him gently from behind. He looked up at the Elf above him, and the latter smirked slyly as he pulled his finger out. The soft pop of a lid was the only warning he was given before Elrohir's fingers were back at his entrance.

'I love you,' Elrohir whispered before pulling down Mallorn's leggings and positioning himself between his thighs. He inserted a finger, followed by another, stretching his lover.

Mallorn grimaced as he felt a slight pain but said nothing. However, this initial pain stirred another emotion inside his belly as Elrohir's ministrations continued, and soon he found himself highly aroused.

'Elrohir!' he gasped in need as his hands pulled his lover's raven hair.

Smiling, Elrohir acknowledged his lover's cry and pulled his fingers out, only to lift his lover's legs onto his shoulders. More oil was slicked onto his matching erection before he slowly sheathed himself inside his lover's tight entrance.

Mallorn winced in pain but willed his body to relax as his lover patiently waited for him to adjust.

Feeling the blond Elf's body relaxed around him, Elrohir gently thrust himself in and out. All too soon, he felt the familiar tingling at the base of his spine but didn't change his pace from fear that he might hurt his lover.

Mallorn gasped and moaned as small waves of pleasure started to mount inside him, and he began thrusting down in time with his lover's thrusts.

'Elrohir!' he exclaimed pleadingly, desperate to feel his lover coming hard inside him. Again, his lover never failed to respond as his thrusts became harder and faster.

Reaching the end of his endurance, Elrohir took hold of his lover's hardness and stroked it until Mallorn cried in ecstasy as he came.

As his lover's muscles clamped around him, Elrohir released into his lover's body before collapsing atop Mallorn's prone body. The two lay motionless for a few moments before, slowly, the raven-haired Elf rolled over next to Mallorn. The blond Elf then shifted and rested his head on his lover's chest.

'I love you, Elrohir,' he whispered. 'But I'm still afraid.' Tears fell silently down his cheeks. 'Legolas loved Haldir with all his heart, but he lost him. And now he's lost his daughter ... I can't bear such tragedy if it ever happened to me.'

'Everything will be fine, Mallorn, I promise,' Elrohir assured as he kissed the top of Mallorn's golden head and hugged him tightly. 'For now, you must become strong for your brother's sake. He will need all the support he can get, but you won't help him like this. I'll be your strength, Mallorn. I'll always be your strength and support, my love. I'll never leave you, even if I have to fight the entire world alone.' He paused a little before adding. 'Do you regret this?'

Mallorn sat up to look down into his lover's dark eyes.

'No,' he replied.

Elrohir smiled as he brought his hand to caress his lover's cheek.

'Did you see Aragorn or Legolas when you went there?' he asked.

'No,' Mallorn replied as he lay back. 'Aragorn was already gone when I went, but Gwîneth told me how sad he was. As for Legolas, he was sleeping at the time, but Gwîneth told me that Aragorn said something about Legolas being up all night. I can only imagine the amount of grief he is feeling.'

'We'll help them through this difficult time, Meleth. We will be strong for them,' Elrohir assured softly.

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Glorfindel stormed through the corridors, heading to Elrond's quarters. Tears of grief and anger welled in his eyes, but he didn't let them fall. His heart was full of rage as much as heartache.

When Faramir announced Míreth's death, the citadel was in uproar. The blond Lord headed to Elrond's chambers as soon as he heard. The guards at Elrond's door stood at attention but did not attempt to stop him as he walked past.

'Elrond!' The blond Elf's voice thundered as he entered the bedchamber. 'Is it true?'

Upon seeing Imladris' Lord sitting in a chair, hunched over with his head resting on the back of his clutched hands, he froze.

'Elrond,' Glorfindel called again with a low voice. 'Is it true that Míreth—' He couldn't continue his question as the thought of the little Princess dying clenched his heart.

Elrond raised his head, revealing a tired face and swollen eyes.

'Yes,' he replied softly.

'How?' Glorfindel whispered.

'I'm not sure,' Elrond said. 'I was summoned late last night, but when I arrived at Estel's chambers, she was already gone.'

'You told me that she was getting healthier,' Glorfindel insisted.

'That's what I thought,' Elrond said sombrely. 'Aside from her fever fits, she was perfectly healthy. She shouldn't have—' The ancient Lord couldn't hold back the sob that tore itself from his lips. 'I don't know what went wrong, Glorfindel,' he lamented.

'I know what went wrong, Elrond,' Glorfindel said furiously. 'Treason is what went wrong.'

With that, the blond Elf stormed out of the chambers.

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Mortardur let out a long, deep sigh as he stared gravely at the burning flames in the fireplace, completely lost in thoughts. He wasn't supposed to feel this way. He was supposed to be relieved that the King's magical spawn was finally out of the way, but he wasn't.

He was terrified...

Apprehension filled his heart and soul when he heard Faramir's announcement this morning. For some odd reason, he was starting to think that poisoning the Prince and his daughter was a huge mistake; maybe it was the fear of getting caught or his conscience yowling in guilt. Either way, he wasn't pleased with the death of the little Princess. No, her death had caused him to fear more than happiness. He feared the King's reaction to the death of his daughter in light of the ongoing investigation.

The young Lord gritted his teeth in frustration as his wife's weeping filled his ears. The woman hadn't stopped crying since morning!

"Will you stop your annoying weeping, woman?!" he yelled, glaring at his wife. "You're getting on my nerves!"

The Lady looked up at him confusedly with red eyes.

"What's the matter with you?" she asked. "Aren't you sad at the death of our Princess?"

Mortardur huffed angrily in response.

"I don't understand why you are so upset about her! One would think that she was your child!"

"How could you say such a thing?! She was an innocent child. She was the most beautiful baby I have ever seen."

"Seen? When did that happen?" Mortardur asked angrily, glaring at his wife. "Did you visit the Palace without my permission?"

"Two weeks ago," his wife admitted. "I visited Prince Legolas with a group of the court's Ladies to pay our respects. Princess Míreth was the most precious little thing in all of Middle-Earth. What would you do if it was our baby who died?"

The young Lord growled in rage at his wife's words. He wasn't in the mood to entertain some womanly silly notions.

"Go to your bed, woman. I'm not in the mood to listen to your whining," he barked.

Giving her husband a stern look, the Lady stood up and walked away.

"Women!" The Lord huffed under his breath as he stared back at the fire.

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Aragorn approached the royal wing with heavy, unwilling steps. He had spent the day hiding in his office, away from everyone, while Faramir dealt with all the official matters that concerned his daughter's death. Even though his behaviour could be viewed as weak, he was unconcerned. He couldn't deal with anything linked to Míreth's death yet. Therefore, he busied himself with the daily affairs of his Kingdom rather than dwelling on his pain. But now, he had to return to his quarters and face Legolas and their grieving friends and family.

'May Valar help me and give me the strength!' he silently prayed.

The two guards stood at attention as he reached the wing's main doors.

"Your Majesty," said one of them as he came close. "Please accept our sincerest condolences for the loss of the little Princess. No parent should bury their child. It's a great loss to us all."

"Sire," the second guard said. "Please accept my condolences. I-I'm a parent of a little girl too and...I don't know what I would do if...if anything were to happen to her. I-I can't even imagine it. She means the world to me. So, please accept our sympathies for your loss. This is a huge tragedy for Gondor; we all feel it in our hearts, just as you do. Your Majesty is not alone in his grief. We are with you. Always. Our condolences to your husband also. He must be devastated. Please convey our respects to him. May Elbereth shine Her light upon the little Princess and guide her home to the Blessed Realm!"

Aragorn closed his eyes, blinking his tears away at the heartfelt words that the guards spoke. Those were simple people with no greed or ambition other than to serve their country and their King with the utmost loyalty. Their sincere words touched and soothed his aching heart more than any elaborate speeches he could have heard from the Lords of Gondor. He placed a hand on the guard's shoulder and forced a slight smile on his lips.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"Please, send our condolences to His Highness, the Prince Consort," The guard reminded him.

"I will," Aragorn said before entering the wing.

The guards in his quarters offered a similar condolence to their King, offering him more words of comfort.

When Aragorn entered his chambers, he was greeted by his family and friends, all gathered in the living room. The hobbits sat in one corner, still crying their hearts out. They were very fond of Míreth. Mallorn and Elrohir were seated together at one corner. Upon seeing him, his brother stood and was about to approach him, but Aragorn shook his head slightly, not wanting to hear anything. His father and Glorfindel sat silently on a couch, deeply lost in thoughts. Gwîneth, on the other hand, jumped from her place and walked up to him as soon as he was inside the room.

"Your Majesty," she said before he could stop her. "Please, you are the only one who can help us. Legolas hasn't left his bedchamber since the morning."

"What?" Aragorn asked.

"Aye, my Lord," she replied. "When I tried to enter his bedchamber this morning, it was locked inside. I knocked and called, but no one answered me. I waited, hoping he would eventually leave his room, but he didn't. He hasn't eaten anything all day, and I fear he might have done something to himself." Gwîneth burst into tears, and Glorfindel quickly stood up and took her into his arms.

"Please, calm yourself," the King said. "I'll take care of it. In the meantime, can you order the servants to bring a light meal of fruits and bread?"

Nodding, the Lady pulled away from Glorfindel, wiping her tears, and went to carry out the King's orders. The man marched to the bedchamber and tried the knob but found the door locked. Knocking, he waited for a reply but received none. He knocked again.

"Legolas, it's I, Aragorn. Open the door."

A few moments later, everybody heard the lock's soft click before the door opened slightly. Aragorn raised his hand as he noticed Mallorn standing up as the door opened, but he shook his head at the blond Prince before entering the bedchamber.

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The room was almost dark, with only the remains of a dying fire in the fireplace illuminating the place. Aragorn shivered slightly when he entered, noting how cold the room was. He waited until his eyes got used to the dark before moving to the fireplace. His eyes could make out Legolas' silhouette returning to the bed after opening the door. Aragorn placed some logs into the fireplace and stirred the ashes, rekindling the fire. Since Legolas had locked himself up all day in the room, the King mused, the servants had yet to be able to change the candles on the candleholders. Once light brightened the room, he moved to a small cabinet where some candles were stored and replaced the old ones before lighting them up.

Taking care of the light, Aragorn removed his light crown, which he used for daily affairs, and placed it on the mantel before taking off his boots, over-robe, and tunic, leaving just his shirt and leggings. As soon as he undressed, soft knocks were heard on the chamber's door. Glancing at the prone Elf, Aragorn sighed before walking to the door. He opened it only enough to allow him to take Lady Gwîneth's tray.

The blond Lady tried to look over his shoulder as she handed him the tray but failed.

"Don't worry," the man whispered. "I promise I'll take good care of him." The Elleth nodded in response. "Tell the others to go back to their rooms. There is no sense in staying here all night."

With that, he closed the door and locked it behind him.

Aragorn placed the food tray on the small table in the sitting area and walked to the large bed. Slightly kneeling on one leg on the mattress, he touched the Elf's shoulder.

"Legolas," he called softly. "Legolas, you have to eat."

But the Elf didn't even stir. He remained curled over himself into a fetal position, hugging the still body of Míreth.

Aragorn blinked away the tears that welled in his eyes and took a deep breath before trying again.

"Legolas, please. Gwîneth brought some fruits and bread," he tried.

Still, he failed to exact a reaction from the blond Elf.

Sighing, the man entered the bed and gently tried to roll his husband over.

"Legolas, look at me, please."

Legolas looked up at Aragorn with dead eyes. Two silvery trails of tears stained his pale face.

"Legolas, you must eat something," the King said coaxingly.

"I want to stay with Míreth," the Elf whispered before rolling back over and hugging his daughter's body.

Aragorn sighed deeply.

"Legolas, she's gone," he stated, though his heart was tearing. "You have to accept that she's gone." —A muffled sob escaped from Legolas in response— "We have to bury her, Legolas," Tears fell silently from his eyes as Aragorn continued. 'Saes, Legolas, don't make it harder on both of us than it is.'

Slowly, Legolas' body began to uncurl before he sat up, looking at his husband.

"Let's go and eat something, Meleth," Aragorn requested gently.

With his husband's help, Legolas nodded and got off the bed. The Elf silently released his husband's hand and headed to the bathroom. Aragorn looked at the still body of Míreth sadly before he gently leaned over and took her into his arms. Lifting the velvet blanket off her face, the King felt a pang of grief filling his heart upon seeing Míreth's beautiful pale face.

'You would've been very happy, my beautiful Jewel,' he whispered. 'I would've made sure of that.'

Hearing the bathroom door opening, Aragorn placed the babe again on the bed before looking up to find Legolas staring at him. Silently, the man walked to the blond Elf and led him to the sitting area. They sat in silence, eating their first meal of the day. Once finished, they both retired to their bed and slept, hugging their daughter between them.

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*One week later*

*Mirkwood*

Tarawiel sighed deeply as she paced before the fireplace in her bedchamber. Her husband had locked himself in the study since the morning and refused to come out or even open the door for her. Her husband's advisor had told her that the Crown Prince had received a letter from Gondor that had greatly upset him. The advisor didn't know what the letter contained, but he said that the Prince's face had turned ashen upon reading it.

Since then, Tarawiel had been on pins and needles, wondering what had upset her husband so much to cause such a reaction, but no one around her could give her a satisfying answer. The Noldo Elleth feared that something terrible had happened to her father-in-law or one of her brothers-in-law.

The enormous wooden doors suddenly opened, and Aredhel entered the room.

'Mell nîn (My Dear),' she exclaimed, rushing as fast as her body allowed her to his side. 'What happened? Lord Túrin told me that you've received a letter from Gondor. Has something happened? Is King Thran—' Tarawiel halted as her husband suddenly took her into his arms, hugging her tightly. She slowly raised her arms and hugged him back. Aredhel rarely showed his emotions, even to his wife, but on those rare occasions, his tough exterior would crack, and he would need someone to comfort him. After being married to him for almost four centuries, Tarawiel learned not to ask about his troubles but to wait for him to come and ask to be comforted. Therefore, she patiently waited for him to pour his heart out.

Pulling away from the hug, Aredhel looked deeply into his wife's brown eyes before leaning downwards and capturing her red lips into a tender kiss.

Breaking away, Aredhel spoke softly. 'I have received a letter from Gondor informing me that Míreth, Legolas' child, has passed away.'

Tarawiel gasped in horror. 'But she's still a baby.'

Aredhel looked at his wife sadly.

'Our child was a mere baby when he died,' he whispered tenderly, his blue eyes full of pain and sorrow.

When hearing her husband's words, Tarawiel's beautiful face betrayed the pain in her heart. Their firstborn child had been born prematurely and died a few moments after his birth. His death had caused them and their family great sorrow that had never truly healed. Now, Tarawiel understood perfectly why Aredhel had locked himself in the study and didn't want to see her. Now, she understood why he held her tightly as if she would vanish if he let go.

'Everything will be all right, Meleth,' she said as she cupped his cheeks and smiled. 'The loss of Legolas' daughter is tragic, but we will get through. And if Legolas has lost his little Jewel, then our child will be the Jewel that shines through these dark times.' —She paused suddenly, blinking before her face broke into a soft smile— 'Our child has talked to me, Mell nîn. He has named himself.'

'What?' Aredhel asked in wonder.

'Míriedir (He Who Shines/Sparkles Like a Jewel); he shall be named Míriedir,' she whispered tenderly.

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To Be Continued...